


The Devil's Serenade

by kiranightshade



Series: Stetopher Week 2017 [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter, Cannibalism, Demon Stiles, M/M, Murder, Polyamory, Stetopher Week 2017, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-16 20:28:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12350100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiranightshade/pseuds/kiranightshade
Summary: There's more to family than what stains the earth.





	The Devil's Serenade

The boy’s eyes are curious as they land on him, but cold to his father. 

He’s in his way.

“Christopher,” the boy croons.

Chris’ grip tighten on his gun. The boy is putting him on edge. He’s something, something other.

His wolf, the one they’re hunting, growls from behind him, stuck as he is in their bear trap. 

“How do you know my name?”

“How could I not?” the boy asks, “Your urges are so very…alluring.”

The boy rises, dissipating into ink-like tendrils that twist and move until he materializes at his back.

“It’s a beautiful piece, that gun,” he whispers into his ear, not unlike Chris would imagine the devil charming Eve into sin, “it must be a part of you, an extension of your being, to be treated with such care.”

Chris grits his teeth, “What are you?”

The boy tuts, “You’re asking the wrong questions, dear Christopher.”

Chris blinks and he’s at his front, resting his cheek against the barrel of his gun. 

“The real question is, is this who you are? One who kills with no joy, no choice. One who acts as another’s weapon when you could so much more.”

“What are you…you’re just trying to get into my head. You don’t want me to kill that monster.”

Mirth fills the boy’s eyes, is that what I want? If that were so, you would already be dead.”

Despite himself, his training, Chris’ lips part in shock. Cool fingers trail down his trigger finger and rub soft circles on the visible arteries on his wrist.

“What do you want?” Chris gasps. His thoughts are getting hazy around the edges, as if nothing exists outside that one point of contact.

“I want you to act on your desires. I want you be who you are. I want you to hunt the monsters.”

Chris blinks. The boy is crouching over his wolf as if he never moved. His eyes bore into him, as if they can see past his skin, his bones, and into his very soul. 

His father is scolding him. It’s a demon, he says. A vile creature incapable of truth. Shoot it, he orders, put it down.

Put them all down.

He pulls the trigger, a single shot echoing through the trees as birds screech and scatter. His body makes an anticlimactic thud when it hits the ground.

“I’m so proud of you.” The words carry on the wind.

Chris blinks. He is alone.

 

*** 

 

His dining room light is on.

He kills the engine, circling around the back of the house. He enters silently, gun drawn.

The boy is waiting for him, sitting at the head of the table, his father’s seat. There is a man, freshly showered, sitting to his left.

The table is set, food fresh and ready to be served.

The boy stands, a welcoming smiles wide on his face with his hand gesturing him to the empty place setting to his right.

“Please, Christopher, sit. You’re right on time.”

Chris puts away his gun, but keeps the holster open. He sits, numbly placing the napkin on his lap.

The man across from him smiles, flashing sharp teeth before returning to his pleasant expression.

The boy serves them both before himself. Chris hesitates to eat and it must have been the right thing to do, because the man doesn’t pick up his fork until the boy is seated.

“Don’t be shy, Christopher. We’ve prepared all this for you.”

Chris cuts a piece of steak onto his fork and eats.

“It’s good,” Chris grunts.

The boy beams. “Oh, we are so pleased to hear you say so. Peter and I worked so hard to prepare everything after all the trouble you went to provide the meat.”

Chris freezes, stares at his plate, and is horrified at the lack of revulsion as he swallows another bite. 

“Stiles,” the man, Peter, drawls. His voice is calming, charming even. 

“It’s alright Christopher,” a cool hand holds his own where he hadn’t known it was clenching the knife. “Eat Christopher. Don’t let my hard work go to waste.”

Chris manages a weak nod. They eat.

Stiles rises as they finish, collecting their plates as he heads into the kitchen. 

Chris jumps when a foot bumps against his own. He looks up to see Peter leaning forward, his grin returned, as is the spark of interest in his eyes.

“I must thank you,” he says, “attempting to kill me would have marred that pretty face of yours.”

His eyes flash red and confirm what Chris already knew. Peter is his wolf. He doesn’t move as Peter drags his foot higher up his shin.

“Peter,” Stiles scolds fondly, “be nice to good Christopher.”

Peter immediately pulls his foot back, returning to his perfect posture, looking genuinely chastened. Stiles lays an approving hand on his shoulder in passing.

Chris watches as Peter relaxes at the gesture and how he tracks Stiles’ movements with reverence.

“Don’t mind him,” Stiles says. “He’s just excited to have another member of the family. Family is very important to us.”

His eyes bore into him once more and it feels as if the moment is suspended in time, like his answer could make or break the very earth itself.

Chris takes another bite to stall. He thinks of his steak, of his father, of monsters. 

“Yes,” he says, “Family is everything.”

Stiles and Peter smile at him and something warm unfurls in his chest.

He smiles back.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been watching a lot of Hannibal okay. My Fandoms will bleed into each other.


End file.
